The day had finally arrived. Celestial’s fifth album, Dance in the Starlight, was officially released, and the group was set to hold their highly anticipated comeback show.

The hall, filled with 3,000 eager fans, buzzed with excitement. Among them sat Kaede, gripping her ticket tightly. After an exhausting effort to secure a seat, she was finally here, surrounded by the electric anticipation of the crowd. Her heart pounded as the stage lights dimmed.

Meanwhile, backstage, Mirei took deep breaths, trying to steady herself. Even though her anxiety had improved over time, today felt different. It had been a while since she stood on a grand stage like this, and the weight of expectations pressed on her shoulders. She clenched her fists, her palms slightly damp with nervous sweat.

“Mirei.”

A warm hand wrapped around hers. Hikari, ever observant, had noticed her unease. Minami stood beside her, offering a reassuring smile, the kind that carried an unspoken message—You’ll be fine.

Mirei exhaled, nodding. She wasn’t alone. The moment they stepped onto the stage, they would be Celestial, shining together under the lights.

Finally, the show began. The music blasted through the speakers as the stage lights flashed in vibrant colors. Celestial’s members strode onto the stage, taking their positions.

The beat kicked in—intense, energetic, and powerful. The choreography was the hardest they had ever attempted, a mix of intricate footwork and sharp movements that demanded absolute precision.

The audience was mesmerized. The song carried a nostalgic 90s disco vibe, infused with a modern touch. The synchronized movements, the flashing lights, the dazzling costumes—it was all breathtaking. As they reached the final note, the members struck a dramatic pose, the audience erupting into cheers that shook the entire hall.

But beneath the dazzling spectacle, Mirei felt herself struggling.

Though they had trained tirelessly, the demanding choreography made live singing incredibly challenging. A few vocal cracks and pitch inconsistencies slipped through. While it wasn’t as disastrous as their past university performance, it was noticeable enough to gnaw at Mirei’s confidence. She tried to shake it off, but doubt clung to her mind like a shadow.

Kaede, watching from the audience, immediately noticed the change in Mirei’s expression. Her usual confidence faltered, her smile looking strained. She’s overthinking it. Kaede bit her lip, wishing there was something—anything—she could do. But at this moment, all she could do was watch.

As they launched into the second song, Mirei’s instability worsened. The other members noticed it too. Minami, always the leader, quickly signaled their manager. Within moments, the staff discreetly moved in, guiding Mirei offstage while the other members seamlessly took over. They reassured the audience with light-hearted banter, covering for Mirei’s absence with jokes that had the fans laughing.

Backstage, Mirei sat on a chair, gripping her water bottle. Her breathing was uneven as staff members gathered around her.

“It was great, Mirei,” her manager said softly. “Don’t overthink it.”

Other staff members chimed in, offering words of encouragement. Mirei nodded, forcing a small smile. But deep down, disappointment weighed on her. After ten minutes of rest, she refused to let her team carry the burden alone. Taking a deep breath, she stood up and walked back toward the stage.

Kaede let out a breath she hadn’t realized she was holding when she saw Mirei return. The relief was instant. You can do this, Mirei.

The rest of the performance went smoother. The members found their rhythm again, and as the final song wrapped up, Celestial bowed deeply to the audience, thanking them for their unwavering support. The cheers of the fans filled the hall, their love and admiration undeniable.

Backstage, exhaustion mixed with exhilaration.

“Whoa, that was intense!” Ayumi gasped, stretching her arms.

“The choreography really pushed us,” Emi agreed, still catching her breath.

“It wasn’t our best, but we still pulled through,” Hikari added, her usual calm presence reassuring the team.

Minami clapped her hands together. “Great work, everyone! Thank you for your hard work!”

A chorus of “Thank you!” echoed among the members as they turned to the staff, expressing their gratitude.

Mirei, however, quietly stepped aside. She still felt the sting of her earlier struggle. Instead of joining the celebratory dinner with the staff, she decided to rest. After bidding farewell and exchanging hugs with her teammates, her manager drove her back to the dorm.

Closing her room door behind her, Mirei sighed. She leaned against it, the adrenaline from the performance slowly fading.

It still happened. No matter how much she thought she had overcome it, the anxiety still crept in at the worst moments. The thought of burdening her members and staff gnawed at her.

This time, she didn’t even have the courage to check the feedback online. The intense choreography had pushed their limits—perhaps they needed to adjust it for future performances.

Just as she was about to sink further into her thoughts, her phone buzzed. She furrowed her brows, glancing at the caller ID.

Kaede.

Her heart skipped a beat. She hesitated for only a second before answering.

“Hello?”

Kaede’s voice was gentle, calm. “Mirei… you did great. Don’t worry.”

Mirei blinked, caught off guard. “What? What do you mean?”

Kaede sighed on the other end before replying, “I watched your show.”

Mirei gasped softly. “What? How? You never told me—”

“I bought a ticket, of course,” Kaede chuckled.

Mirei was still overwhelmed. “I know, but… why didn’t you tell me?”

“I didn’t want to burden you with my presence. I just wanted to be there… watching you.”

Mirei fell silent, warmth spreading in her chest. Kaede’s words, so simple yet filled with meaning, melted away the remnants of her anxiety.

Kaede continued, her voice steady. “You and your members did great. You’ll be fine.”

Mirei closed her eyes, tears slipping down her cheeks before she could stop them. She clutched the phone tighter.

“I’ll always be by your side,” Kaede whispered.

A shaky breath escaped Mirei’s lips. “Thank you… Kaede.”

Kaede hesitated for just a second before adding softly, “I love you.”

Mirei’s eyes widened. The words hit her like a gentle wave, washing over her with warmth she didn’t know she needed. She wiped her tears, a soft smile forming on her lips.

Kaede’s kindness, her unwavering presence—it was like magic, always making Mirei feel safe. Secure. Loved.

As the call ended, Mirei held her phone close to her heart.